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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24222343">Ours is the Fury</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CerebralHedonist/pseuds/CerebralHedonist'>CerebralHedonist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood &amp; Manga</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, BDSM, Battle Royale - Freeform, Competition for Fuhrer, Death, Depression, Falling In Love, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Edward Elric, Insomnia, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Slow Burn, Switch Edward Elric, Switch Roy Mustang, Violence, Wonderkid Elicia, age gap, post-promise day</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:42:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,160</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24222343</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CerebralHedonist/pseuds/CerebralHedonist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After six years of unshakeable peace, the Armed Forces of Amestris are still the primary power of Armestris and are reluctant to move towards democracy. With Fuhrer Grumman falling ill with age, the obvious successor to be put in would be a newly minted Major General Roy Mustang whose effort in restoring Ishval and the damage done to Amestris via the Promise Day merit him the trust of the people as well as many factions. The now General Halcrow seeks to not allow that to happen by petitioning for the re-establishment of the Sovereign Trials -- an antiquated competition for the Fuhrer-ship based upon the merit of their chosen sovereign. The idea that a Fuhrer was only as powerful and worthy as the trust, direction, and absolute obedience displayed by a chosen subordinate under their total command. With the Brass in full agreement, Roy is forced into the Trials in order to put forth his lot for Fuhrer, but the candidacy is strict. The Sovereign must be ranked Lt. Colonel or above, they must be battle-seasoned in a notable conflict, of reputable public standing, and a state-licensed alchemist…</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Edward Elric &amp; Roy Mustang, Edward Elric/Roy Mustang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Take Care of Yourself</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was inspired by the Duelists in Revolutionary Girl Utena, the dance scene in Utena: Adolescent Apocalypse, Hunger Games, and the Secretary… the rest is all me. </p><p>I hope you're into it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Westward line from Risembol to Central tended to always be populated with interesting types, the majority being military headed home on leave. As it unloaded and reloaded, there was never a lack of eyes that flicked towards gorgeous trail of braided gold spilling over the shoulder and chest of the quiet passenger near the rear of the train. Officers and Grunts alike openly appreciated the way the waning sun hit each luminescent strand as it led down to a tied-off tassel of hair that rested on dull brown slacks. That spill of gold proved quite the distraction as they whispered but they were not alone as normal passengers -- mostly women gossiped their appraisal of the handsome passenger asleep against the window. Those lucky enough to be seated ahead of said passenger, tried to be inconspicuous about looking back at the lush lashes brushing naturally sharp cheekbones like gold dust. Lips parted in a gentle snore made for quite a plump indulgence as giggles floated about and plans to wake the sleeping beauty permeated the car.</p><p>The attendant tried to keep it professional and went to the sleeping passenger before anyone had the chance to disturb them.</p><p>"Excuse me, er, Mr. Elric?"</p><p>Edward's shoulders tensed as they roused with a soft groan and a weary sigh. The ache of the bench seats spreading up his spine despite the new age cushions designed onto the seats. He met the attendant with a tired and mildly irritated dullness in gilded irises and arched one brow.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"Um, was this your stop? We've been unloading, but we'll be departing soon."</p><p>Crap, he almost slept through his stop. Almost made paying for a nonstop ticket an utter waste of money.</p><p>"Uh, yeah it is. Thanks for the heads up," Edward replied, giving the attendant a polite smile as he took his suitcase and put the transmuted strap across his body. During his extensive lone traveling, Edward learned that carrying his own suitcase was exhausting and made it easier to deal with by switching to a waterproof leather one creating strap. He'd gotten the idea from military medic bags. "I'll get out of your hair."</p><p>The attendant blushed at the smile, clearing his throat. Of course, a mere polite smile couldn't be taken as flirting -- he was married after all -- it was just set into such a distinguishable face that it gave him a flutter to even be acknowledged.</p><p>"Of course, sir. Enjoy your stay in Central."</p><p>"Thanks."</p><p>Stepping off the calm vacuum of the train into the sea of sound, sight, and smells that was Central's train station sent a thrill up his spine. The city arose even more beautiful than it'd ever been when he was a child. How many years had come and gone? Let's see, he was 23 now? Shit, it'd been six years. Six years since he'd even bothered to set foot in the city. Of course, he'd been around it, East City being where he stopped most to visit Nina's and Hughes's graves. However, for some reason he could never explain, he actively avoided Central City and most directly, Central Command. The thought of going back there, stepping foot on the parade grounds, and entering the gates always made his heart seize with anxiety as though if he stepped in, he would really be trapped this time. That no world-ending catastrophe would prevent them from keeping him in the military…</p><p>The worst part of that thought, Edward felt the temptation to be trapped by it.</p><p>He breathed a deep sigh and looked around at the bustling crowds from a different perspective, one in which he was not consumed by his own purposes, his own goals. He couldn't be… because he had none.</p><p>"Edward!" a gentle, motherly voice called out against the ebb and flow of the crowd and brought Edward from his thoughts.</p><p>He laid eyes on Gracia Hughes, her hair pulled up high in a slightly messy bun most likely for work. Next to her, the apple of Edward's eye, beautiful Elicia. She was 13 now, her pigtails large and puffy as they'd always been but their tails nearly brushing her thin stocking clad calves. She'd grown fairly tall, coming to Gracia's shoulder already and wore her father's frames when she developed astigmatism as he had. At least she got it honest. Edward looked upon her fondly, smiling at the stray bang that fell into her face just like her father. He opened his arms as soon as she got a running start and dove into him.</p><p>"Big brother!"</p><p>In that moment, Edward floated in bliss and forgot just what had made him avoid this place as he embraced her close and she pressed her ear to his chest -- to his heart.</p><p>"You've gotten so big. I saw in the pictures, but seeing it in person, you're --"</p><p>"Absolutely beautiful? Gorgeous? A blooming angel among girls?"</p><p>Oh right, he forgot. She'd inherited her father's sense of humor.</p><p>"All of those things," he replied easily, knowing how to play this game by now.</p><p>Gracia, thankfully, embraced him with a calmer demeanor and touched his hair. No matter that they were the same height now, she still treated him as a mother would and that kept him fiercely protective of her.</p><p>"Look at you. Elicia isn't the only one who shot up like a tree," she complimented. "And you've grown so…"</p><p>"Big brother's beautiful, isn't he mama."</p><p>"Eheh, I was going to say handsome." Though Gracia admitted, beautiful was certainly what came to mind.</p><p>"Thanks, I think. I like the long hair. It suits you."</p><p>"I hear it makes me look younger."</p><p>Elicia huffed. "You should see all the lame guys who look at mama now. It's okay though, none of them passed the test yet so mama is safe for now!"</p><p>"Test?"</p><p>Gracia actually rolled her eyes. "Some sort of vetting system she developed on her own that even I don't know how to cheat because I have no idea what it is."</p><p>"Plausible deniability, mama," Elicia said proudly.</p><p>"Of course, as long as I know nothing then it’s not my fault."</p><p>Edward laughed at the way Gracia played along with Elicia's conspiracy acting. "I've really missed you both. Phone calls and letters just aren't the same."</p><p>"You'd miss us less if you just showed up once in a while!" Elicia snarked and hooked her arm around his, tugging him. "Come on, Ed. Mama's tired and I made pie!"</p><p>Edward allowed himself to be dragged away from the station. Hearing Elicia talk about school was so normal that it almost gave Edward hives and yet he hung on each and every word she said, loving how her intelligence grew. The teachers couldn’t keep up with her and Gracia couldn’t buy enough books. Worst of all, she liked to explore things and places she shouldn't. The girl practically assimilated information and utterly talented in the most disturbing way: she could read people like an elementary picture book. Gracia lamented that she couldn't hide the days when she would look at Maes's picture and feel lost. Elicia would know. Elicia always knew. And she would always pick those days to want to scrapbook with Gracia and go through all their old photos. Edward listened many nights as Gracia described just how much like her father Elicia became each year. In fact, what pushed Edward to pop into Central, to break his avoidance of the entire city was that Elicia was too much like her father. Gracia was afraid and she was concerned that moving to Central -- moving closer to Roy -- had damned them now that she realized just how smart and resourceful Elicia was.</p><p>Elicia's mature thirteen-year-old eyes began to turn to Central Command and Edward was the reason she knew she could do it.</p><p>They spent a quiet dinner together, talking and catching up. Elicia showed him her own personal study, a very telling replica of Maes's office in the old house, where various alchemical textbooks and sketched arrays lay. What surprised him and relieved him all in the same breath were the symbols etched in them all being medically related. He couldn't help but understand how similar Elicia and he were and yet how different.</p><p>Both their parents died in situations that they could not control.</p><p>Both tried to control it.</p><p>Edward chose arrogance and fought to bring his mother back.</p><p>Elicia chose prudence and to make her father's fate an impossibility.</p><p>Edward smiled as she explained an array that could stop bleeding long enough for bullet extraction. Gracia had nothing to fear in Elicia considering her options.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Once the hour struck late, Edward chose to go to a hotel. Since they downsized, they no longer had the spare bedroom and Edward admittedly was too sore for the couch so he politely declined and chose to head to a hotel. When he checked in, he dropped his suitcase and went straight to the bathroom, unshouldering his duster and further his waistcoat. He stepped in front of the mirror and gazed at his worn appearance, the slight grey under his eyes that came from more than just sleepless nights on the train. His lips were slightly chapped from chewing at them and the cold nip of Central's industrial winter on the way here. He reached into his pocket put a balm upon them then worked to undo his hair, keeping to routine.</p><p>Alphonse wasn't here anymore to remind him to warm himself up after braving the cold with his automail, or to take his hair down and brush the excess hairs out so that he didn't clog the hotel drain with his shedding. He wasn't there to sit behind him and carefully braid his hair. That privilege belonged to Mei now and Edward would never interfere with how much Alphonse loved her. Their wedding had been the last time he visited Xing as the couple took off on a year-long honeymoon to explore just as he did. Their last night together as traveling companions was them sitting under the stars and realizing that despite choosing to part after Al's recovery, they'd never truly been apart. Now, they would be for…well good. He would be in the East… Edward would be in the West…</p><p><em>This…is really it, huh, brother.</em> Alphonse kept examining the golden band on his finger.</p><p><em>Yeah… it's weird. But, it feels okay</em>. He'd looked at his upgraded automail.</p><p>The hug was the tightest and easiest to slip from when they got on their trains. This was fine.</p><p>
  <em>Take Care of Yourself…</em>
</p><p>Winry wasn't a threat to his cranium anymore since he no longer sported combat mail. Bless her, she created a whole collection for him to use in various seasonal and environmental situations. In another life, he'd thought it was to give him a reason to visit home every season. In reality,  it was for his health and to ease the pain of his forced recovery after undergoing automail port surgery for the second time in his life. With no one to fight, the lighter mail became more permanent and so did the distance growing between them. The last time they worked in tandem together was the Rush Valley Expo where she let him be the tester for her prototype arm and leg. She got her investors and he got one more chance to ensure he wasn't making a mistake with her. That night, they lay under the moonlight, her straddling him with her hands pressed against his pectoral and the port of his automail, reflecting the melancholy expression he already had.</p><p><em>I…think I love the you that never looks my way the most</em>. She'd whispered against his mouth, even as she moaned against him.</p><p>She'd cut her hair. Cropped short at the neck in a boyish cut that Edward loved to feel against the flesh of his fingers. She'd become a woman without him, and he felt it in every curve of her body.</p><p><em>I love the you that moves without me.</em> He'd said, not knowing exactly what he meant, but knowing exactly what he felt in those words.</p><p>They parted ways the next morning with smiles, hugs, and a kiss to each other's temples.</p><p>
  <em>Take Care of Yourself…</em>
</p><p>Winry met someone and she was just as focused on Winry's career as she was. Which was what Winry needed. Winry needed someone to stay. Edward never could.</p><p>Edward slid into the shower, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor.</p><p>He couldn't stay with Winry. He wasn't needed by Alphonse anymore. He drifted out to sea, landing on any isle that came and expanding his mind, his intellect, everything he thought that needed nurturing. Yet, he'd never once come back to Central, to the place where purpose called him in the form of a too stiff suit and a heavy bit of metal that somehow always managed to weigh down on him more than his automail. When he'd left, he'd had no intention of coming back and he'd pass through on nonstop trains, watching the skyline change year after year until it recovered and expanded. It grew without him and that was as it should be. Still, as he stood under the spray of hot water, feeling the soreness in his body ease, he wondered how the Bastard was fairing. It'd been a long time since he'd spoken to him… a long time since the Flame Colonel had even heard from him. The distance that grew between him, Alphonse, and Winry was doubled for him and Mustang to the point that he hadn't even called. It wasn't that he hated him. He didn't even have an issue with him, especially after all he'd done to help and all he'd sacrifice to uplift this country and Ishval. No, he knew Roy Mustang wasn't an absolute prick but still very much a bastard. And he wasn't the reason he avoided Central… at least not in that way.</p><p>Edward avoided Central because he was ashamed. He was ashamed because despite how much he'd learned, despite all he'd seen. Despite how much he'd matured…</p><p>Edward had nothing…</p><p>Once upon a time, seeing Al give his life to someone who loved him as fiercely as he did was all Edward could ever want.</p><p>Once upon a time, seeing Winry above him, face flushed and loving smile made just for him was all Edward could ever want.</p><p>Once upon a time, Elicia growing into an intelligent young woman, and living her life outside the shadow of her father's murder and her mother's grief was all Edward could ever want.</p><p>Yet, here he stood, his hair weighing against his lower back like time itself, the heat not even beginning to pierce the cold, hollow feeling inside.</p><p>Edward had nothing…</p><p>With no goals, with nothing at stake, Edward felt unnecessary in his own life. After spending his formative years fighting, calculating, and damn near beating life back with raw bloody knuckles, Edward realized the type of person his life had shaped him into was one that normal life had no need for. So at twenty-three, he felt a hundred years old and for a moment he wondered if this was how Hoenheim felt as he traveled and never stopped.</p><p>Edward pushed the melancholy away with an angry snarl and cleaned himself properly. Brush his hair, glove on so that the joints didn't knot with hair. Braid it up. Now dress. Routine. Routine. Routine. Nothing else.</p><p>He laid back on the bed staring at the ceiling dazedly, trying to let himself relax. Let himself sleep….</p><p> </p><p>The maid wasn't one to be surprised by much. She'd seen and cleaned it all. So seeing the young man sitting in front of the industrial washers with his head down in a deep sleep shouldn't have been so startling. Of course, she couldn't figure out how he'd gotten down here or when, but the tired, world-weary expression on his face prevented her from waking him. She had a son about his age. Military. Had that same face when he slept.</p><p>She pressed a warm blanket and draped over him. Since she was the only one on duty tonight, she told not a soul and cut out the light when she left.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>"Riza."</p><p>"Good morning, Riza, its Gracia."</p><p>"Oh, good morning." Riza didn't mean to sound unenthused, but the month's end approached rapidly and Roy didn't have a single candidate to show for him. He wasn't even trying anymore because he knew that there was nothing he could do and she was running out of options. She ran her fingertips over the raised burns on her shoulder and cleared her throat. "Sorry."</p><p>"It's alright, dear. No luck, I take it."</p><p>"I would say we'd have better luck if he were trying but even that would be a lie."</p><p>Gracia sighed just as deeply in disappointment. "Maes would lose his mind at the unfairness of it all…"</p><p>Riza hummed in agreement but checked her watch. She needed to get ready soon. "I'm sorry to be clipped, but…"</p><p>"Oh! Right. I almost forgot what I'd even phoned for. I wanted to let you know Edward's in town."</p><p>"Ed? Ed's in Central?" Riza's fist tightened on the phone as her mind began to turn. "He's here, for how long?"</p><p>"According to him, indefinitely. We talked last night at dinner, said he needed a break from traveling so he's setting up shop here for a bit until he gets the wanderlust again."</p><p>"Do you know where he's staying? Has he called anyone else?"</p><p>Gracia stumbled a bit at the sudden eagerness in Riza's voice -- if it could be called that since she somehow managed to sound calm at the same time. "He's staying at the Riata downtown. I don't think he's left. Probably still asleep since he left here late last night."</p><p>"What room?"</p><p>"Riza Hawkeye, what are you doing?" Gracia asked, sternly.</p><p>"Nothing yet," she answered honestly. "But… if it’s a small possibility, I have to treat it as a priority."</p><p>"You… you won't make Edward apart of this, will you?" she asked, protest already in her voice.</p><p>Riza contemplated how to answer.</p><p>"No… but… I have to try something. I can't force him to do anything. He has to choose to do it."</p><p>"Then he won't, Riza. He won't. When he left, he was done with the military. Please, Riza. Let him stay that way. He chose to get out… not everyone was so lucky."</p><p>Riza's heart sank into her stomach and sighed out, half disenchanted with the hope that'd sprung up at the sound of Ed's name. "Right. I'm sorry, Gracia. I wasn't thinking."</p><p>Gracia was silent, realizing she'd effectively stepped on the woman and she made a soft sound of protest. "I'm sorry, Riza. I know you want to help him. I know you want Roy to succeed. We all do. But, do you really think he would want to do that at Edward's expense? Again?"</p><p>No, he wouldn't… Despite what others believed, Mustang may not have been above using others, but he avoided it as much as possible. The Sovereign Trials were something he would never try to force, or even persuade anyone to involve themselves in it. Anyone who at the very least been a child before Bradly's Reign knew what the Trials were, knew how they were sanctioned. Her grandfather had spoken venomously of watching young alchemists broken in the trials just to give their candidates a fighting chance. Asking Edward to risk that for him would never even cross Roy's mind.</p><p>Yet, Riza hesitated.</p><p>"He wouldn't ever do that, Gracia," she replied firmly. "I'm sorry I ever even thought of it. I'm sorry."</p><p>"No, no, it's okay. I didn't mean to be that way about it. I just… I wanted to tell you Edward's in town for now. I thought perhaps you and the team would like to see him. ."</p><p>Riza's expression soften. "I understand. Thank you"</p><p>"Don't tell him I called you. But I did nudge him towards Central Command. Elicia is going there to bring Roy a pie and I figured he'd, you know, escort her. It's a perfect chance to…"</p><p>"Gracia? Is something wrong with Ed?"</p><p>"No. No not…physically. But…It's been years and he's grown so much and… I just think he needs someone to notice that. There's something missing or something he's fighting and, I think someone needs to notice."</p><p>Riza smiled and nodded to herself. Gracia, ever a mother. Riza wondered sometimes what that was like, but also prayed she never knew. After all, her profession was dangerous and she…she never could imagine leaving behind anyone in her wake.</p><p>"I'll be waiting for him. Thank you for the warning, Gracia."</p><p>"Of course. Thank you, Riza. Oh… and, how have you been?"</p><p>"Me? What do you mean?"</p><p>"You and Roy are in the belly of the beast now. I worry about who is taking care of both of you now that… God, it’s been almost ten years and I still can't--"</p><p>"We've been fine, Gracia,” Riza interjected, focusing her away from that train of thought. “Roy's focus is always ahead."</p><p>Gracia gave a wry laugh through the receiver. "And you are always focused at his back."</p><p>"Always."</p><p>"Is…is that alright? Will that always be enough?"</p><p>Riza grew quiet, letting her eyes close for a moment. Instinctually she touched the thin white scar at her neck.</p><p>"Yes…" she replied. Not because it would be. But because it had to be. No matter what or how things went, being at his side had to be enough.</p><p>"Riza… it's alright to take care of yourself. Tell him it’s alright to take care of himself. Amestris will always be here…but you two won't be. Please, take care of yourselves."</p><p>Riza hummed her affirmation and bid Gracia goodbye. She put a bit more speed into her morning routine. Before she did anything untoward, she needed to be certain if there was even a chance – that Edward was even a damn option. Riza took deep breaths as she slid on her black t-shirt, steeling herself. He had to be an option. He had to be!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Five and Twenty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You look awful.”</p><p>“Thanks. I made sure I put on my best hobo look.”</p><p>“Just making sure you knew you looked awful.”</p><p>Edward supposed he could put a little more effort into himself this morning, but the anxiety of even going to headquarters was miles from what he wanted to be feeling right now. He’d never say out loud, but he felt like he would stop breathing at any moment, and the closer they got to those alabaster gates, the more he felt his heart jumping into his throat. Cheering. Shouting. Angry rooting. The echoes of it resonated with the tension in his arm where flesh connected with flesh and he’d never felt so fucking alive until he was desperate and had nothing left to lose… because it had all been taken.</p><p>“Say, big brother?”</p><p>“Yeah?” Edward pushed aside the growing stutter of his heart.</p><p>Elicia kept her eyes forward, the sun glinting off her glasses hiding her expression. “Do you ever just… feel stuck?”</p><p>Edward didn’t have to ask what she meant.</p><p>“Yeah. Lot more these days.”</p><p>“How… do you get unstuck. Even when you know you’re like, moving forward. You’re doing stuff, but… you feel like there’s some big shadow that you haven’t found the edge of. You see it… but your feet never get to the light.”</p><p>“You keep walking,” Edward replied. Easier said than done of course.</p><p>“What if you’re tired of walking?” she asked, lowering her head.</p><p>Edward stopped and put his hand on her shoulder. Elicia didn’t look up at him, but she didn’t hide again.</p><p>“When you get tired of walking, stop and remember why you were trying to find the end of the shadow. If that doesn’t work, find a new reason to get your legs moving.”</p><p>So much easier said than done.</p><p>Elicia finally met his eyes, searching before she smiled warmly and pressed her face into his chest. “I still open the door at six o'clock…”</p><p>Edward smiled wryly and pulled his pocket watch – having never returned it and Mustang never asking – and popped it open, staring at the etched numbers that began to tarnish from lack of use and care. He still stopped in Risembol when no one knew it and stood in front of the vacant lot that had filled in with grass. Searching for what? He couldn’t tell anymore.</p><p>“You’ll stop when you’re ready to stop,” he whispered hugging her with his flesh arm. “And you’ll know when you’re ready.”</p><p>Elicia nodded stepped back, smiling in that bright way that Edward had finally stopped associating with the one he couldn’t save.</p><p>“Well, come on. Uncle Roy isn’t going to want a cold pie.”</p><p>Edward allowed himself to laugh.</p><p>
  <em>How do you get unstuck?</em>
</p><p>Edward wished he believed the shit he was selling. He glanced back at their shadows in the morning light. They both had gotten taller.</p><p>Once they reached headquarters, the on-duty soldiers let them in easily, obviously having grown used to Elicia’s care package visits. Edward’s stomach sank further as he realized he recognized none of these new faces. It was nearly a shame. He followed Elicia through the building, a little put off by how easily she navigated the building without anyone being concerned with her, but he guessed with the type of power Mustang boasted now, no one questioned her. Elicia even said good morning to the receptionist as they entered the upper floors where the Brass offices resided. She paused when they got to the door and looked back at Edward, for a moment Hughes was staring right at him.</p><p>“I don’t have to open this door,” she said evenly, far too mature for her age. “I can wait, you can leave, and I go alone. I’ve done it like a dozen times.”</p><p>Edward felt like a coward for considering walking away and it strengthened his resolve. It’d been years, but, these people had once been his family. At the very least they were owed his prodigal return.</p><p>Elicia smiled at him without his response, humming and turning the handle. She went inside with a bright smile.</p><p>“Good morning!!!” She said cheerfully. “I come bearing gifts and harassment!”</p><p>Gracia was right. She was <em>too</em> much like Hughes.</p><p>Their voices hadn’t changed and were so warm it was as though he’d only left them behind last week. He took a breath and entered with a grin, thankful that it at least reached his eyes.</p><p>“Mornin’! See you guys are hardly workin’ as usual!”</p><p>It was so quiet, Edward almost wanted to retreat. However, smiles broke out all around, and, suddenly, a very hyped up Furey was in his arms, hugging him like a lost brother.</p><p>“Ed! It’s so good to see you! It’s been years and—whoa you’re tall!”</p><p>“Not by much,” Edward replied nervously.</p><p>Havoc came over to him, Edward losing his breath at the man being on his feet, and placed a hand to ruffle his hair as though nothing had changed. “Holy shit, boss, you’re at my shoulder now! Never thought that would <em>ever</em> be a thing!”</p><p>“Yeah well, I wasn’t gonna stay short forever,” Ed grumbled, pushing his arm off. "Thought you quit?"<br/>
<br/>
"I did. I'm just here visiting. See I'm in civvies..." Havoc paused, squinting down at Edward as though he’d said something weird. Edward leaned back, frowning.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Havoc suddenly grinned and it was just as warm as anything else about the man.</p><p>“Nothin’. You’ve really grown up, haven’t ya.”</p><p>Edward blinked, unsure of what the hell that meant, but he shrugged it off and smiled at the others. Breda couldn’t get a moment in without asking about his love-life. He wondered where Falman was and found he’d been stationed somewhere else for the time being but would be back later in the year. The only one who seemed to not be surprised to see him was Hawkeye. Edward went to her as she smiled down at him with that warm, nurturing expression that always made him feel welcomed and intimidated at the same time. Her hair had gotten so long, he idly wondered when she'd stopped cutting it. She wore it up still, but it was arranged into a tight bun, effectively keeping it out of the way. Edward wasn’t as afraid to see her as he’d been the others and went to hug her easily when she spread her arms.</p><p>Elicia propped herself on Breda’s desk and taunted him with the pie. “Is Uncle Roy in?”</p><p>“He’s in the office buried under work.”</p><p>“I shouldn’t bother him then,” Edward remarked, stepping back from Hawkeye.</p><p>“I’m sure he’d be happy to see—”</p><p>“I’m sure he’s busy,” Edward said, more immediately than he meant. He covered it with a smile. “Besides, not like we kept up. He’s busy and I got stuff I gotta do anyway. You guys aren’t my only stop.”</p><p>Elicia nibbled on a piece of the pie. “Then it should only take a minute!”</p><p>“What?” Edward asked, suspiciously before a fresh, whole pie was shoved into his hands.</p><p>“You can bring Uncle Roy his pie before you leave! Come on, big brother!” Elicia gave her most charming and sweet smile and it made everyone cave around her.</p><p>Edward narrowed his eyes at her. Definitely too much like Hughes. He looked down at the pie hesitantly.</p><p>“It’s been years, Ed,” Hawkeye said softly. “It wouldn’t be fair if we saw you and he didn’t.”</p><p>Why did it matter so much? Edward’s mind screamed to just exit, to save himself the trouble. If Mustang was still the same, then he really didn’t like the idea of hearing that arrogant tone talk about how childish it was to avoid Central all these years. How he still was the same kid even now. How silly it was for him to run away from home—</p><p>“Alright…”</p><p>A defeat was a defeat was a defeat.</p><p>Edward walked to the door, glancing back at them as Elicia continued to talk and be adorable despite pushing teen years. Hawkeye gave him a gentle, almost apologetic smile and honestly, Edward wanted to glare at her. His hand hesitated over the doorknob as his heart nested in his throat. He did his best to swallow it down and licked very dry lips. What would he say? What would he think? Would he be hurt? Would he be unaffected? Would he even care that Edward had cut him off? Would he give a shit that he’d even come?</p><p>He opened the door slowly and peered in at the mountain of paperwork and couldn’t help the smallest smile at the corner of his mouth. He opened the door a bit more and stepped in, the old bastard coming into view. Dark hair slicked back in shining pomade made for a more regal profile as Mustang turned to reach for a paper while balancing a phone on his shoulder. Narrow basalt eye appeared tired, almost worn by something more intense than exhaustion as he spoke into the phone with agitation. His voice hadn’t changed but… that eyepatch. Last he’d heard, Dr. Marcoh had cured his blindness. Though, a stone was used. Despite being eerily reminiscent of Bradley, Edward found it made him less afraid to approach the man. It reminded him that the Promise Day and time had raked more than just him across the coals. He entered fully as Mustang had yet to notice him and he shut the door with a loud click in the quiet, remaining there as the Brigadier General looked his way. Edward didn’t know where his grin came from, but it was the most natural thing that’d happened all day.</p><p>“I’ll call you back, Colonel,” Mustang muttered quickly and slammed the phone down.</p><p>Edward half expected the man to say something snarky, but all he did was stare, lips slightly parted. After too long, Edward grew impatient and he walked towards the desk, wanting to get this over with and put the pie on his desk.</p><p>“Gracia says don’t work too hard,” Edward said.</p><p>Mustang still said nothing, though his eye narrowed and his head tilted slightly. Edward felt a very familiar twitch in his eye.</p><p>“What?” he seethed, not liking this prolonged silence.</p><p>“….you’re shorter than I thought you’d be by now.”</p><p>Motherfuck—“And you’re older than I thought you’d be by now, ya one-eyed son of a bitch!”</p><p>Mustang smirked and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “<em>There</em> you are. For a minute I thought I was hallucinating out of sheer stress. Especially since you didn’t kick my door down.”</p><p>“Some of us can’t afford property damage anymore, asshole,” Edward grumbled as he took a seat. The weight of anxiety drifted away, leaving him a bit hollow yet relieved. “Elephant in the room: I take it the healing didn’t go the way it was meant to?”</p><p>Mustang touched the patch with a wry smile. “No less than it needed to and no more than I deserved. My sight came but, it just… started to deteriorate. Luckily it was just the left eye. Mental blind spot turned physical.”</p><p>Edward’s automail fingers twitched. “Mm, Truth certainly has a fucking sense of humor about his prices.”</p><p>“Equivalent doesn’t mean equal.”</p><p>“So I’ve learned.”</p><p>They fell quiet for a bit and while it wasn’t uncomfortable, Edward wondered just why Mustang kept staring at him as well as what he could even say to this man after so many years of dead silence.</p><p>“Fullmetal?”</p><p>Edward lifted his head immediately as though his name had been called. God, he thought he was over that title. It’d been years since he last heard it much less even thought about it. Yet, the instinct – that title in <em>that </em>voice – drew him to attention. It was only made worse by Mustang’s soft chuckle and smirk. Edward’s exasperated sigh only made him more amused.</p><p>“Elephant in the room: Al told me you hadn’t been back to Xing in over a year. Mrs. Rockbell informed me you hadn’t been her way in about six months.”</p><p>“Ask what ya really want to and stop wasting my time.”</p><p>“Why did you come here today, Fullmetal?”</p><p>Edward shifted in the chair and leaned his cheek against his metal fist. “Gracia. She asked me to see Elicia. Heard her eyes were lookin’ this way. Guess she doesn’t trust you as a deterrent.”</p><p>“That’s not what I asked. I meant why did you come <em>here</em>. To Headquarters.”</p><p>Edward’s heart skipped a beat.</p><p>“Ya don’t want me here, I don’t have to be here.”</p><p>Mustang’s expression turned calculating. His fingers carded and Edward fought the urge to run.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Ed.”</p><p>That made him more anxious than Mustang kicking him out or accusing him or whatever the hell he’d expected – certainly not an apology. He leaned back in his seat, squinting at Mustang.</p><p>“For what?”</p><p>“It’s been years and I’m still treating you like you blew up something,” Mustang explained with a sigh. “Tell me, where have you been? I thought you’d have been in Risembol with a family by now.”</p><p>Edward bit the inside of his cheek, unsure of what to do with this gauntlet of sincerity that was thrown between them. He looked away once again and shrugged as though it was nothing to explain.</p><p>“Me and Winry didn’t work for long. She needed someone to sit still. I needed someone who didn’t need me that much. I just kept exploring, kept traveling, learned, and didn’t really stop.”</p><p>Mustang hummed and for once Edward didn’t feel judged.</p><p>“I hadn’t planned to come here, to be quite fucking honest,” he admitted. “Kinda feel tricked.”</p><p>“Guess after all this time with no word it would be hard to face them. One month turning into six and six turning into a couple of years. Be hard to pick up where you left off, wouldn’t it?”</p><p>There was no condescension, just a practical understanding. Edward felt something in his chest uncoil as he nodded.</p><p>“I passed by. Then<em> kept</em> passing by. I thought I was gonna be too busy living to come back…”</p><p>“But?”</p><p>Edward clicked his tongue. “But I’m here, ain’t I? Anyway, didn’t get lumped into this to be interrogated. What about you? You got stars and shit and this office might as well be a damn apartment.”</p><p>Mustang smirked. “Perks of keeping you alive and taking down a corrupt government is a nice cushy promotion within said government.”</p><p>“Cause that makes sense.” Edward rolled his eyes. “You kinda look like shit though.”</p><p>“I would say the same for you. Traveling isn’t treating you well.” Mustang touched under his eye in gesture to the bags under Edward’s.</p><p>“Yeah well, maybe I’m getting too old for it.”</p><p>“I suppose sleeping on hard benches and chasing trains isn’t what it used to be.”</p><p>“Neither is scribbling your wrist into carpal-tunnel and slouching an already blown-out back, you actual relic.”</p><p>“Oh, you think I’m important enough to be a relic?”</p><p>“I think you’re important enough to be buried and never found.”</p><p>“Why aren’t you sleeping?”</p><p>The office became too quiet. Edward hated it because he couldn’t pretend he didn’t hear the question, nor the cold, hard concern behind it. Why was it like this? Why was Mustang acting as though his abandoning Central, abandoning the group, abandoning <em>him</em> was alright? Was justifiable? Why was he showing this much sincerity and concern when all Edward want to do was get up, leave, and continue to wonder until he or Armestris turned to dust. Was it really too late to just leave and not come back until Elicia was married with children?</p><p>“<em>Fullmetal.”</em></p><p>Edward came back to the conversation and he heaved a sigh far too tired for someone in their twenties.</p><p>“I can’t sleep while it's quiet.”</p><p>It was all he could say. The best he could describe. Because what the hell else was he supposed to say? Sorry, not sleeping because no one’s trying to kill him? What kind of bullshit would that—</p><p>“The disquiet of a soldier.”</p><p>Edward frowned. “What?”</p><p>“You’re not sleeping because it's peacetime,” Mustang said pulling a fresh notecard from his stack and uncapped his fountain pen. “It’s a problem Soldiers in combat have when all the shooting stops and there’s nothing to jump at.”</p><p>That… was exactly what it felt like. Edward scoffed, not wanting the man to be right. Certainly didn’t like the implication that despite how many years he’d avoided Central Command, Mustang still read him like he was still twelve years old.</p><p>“How long are you in Central?”</p><p>Edward shrugged. “Elicia’s birthday.”</p><p>Mustang slid the notecard across the table. “Stay a week more and make an appointment. She’ll help you get some sleep.”</p><p>“I’m not under your command anymore,” Edward said suddenly. He needed something, anything to make it clear that he’d left this all behind. Mostly for himself.</p><p>“No. You’re not. But I am responsible for the aftermath as much as you were responsible for the aftermath of you and your brother.” Mustang kept his gloved fingers on the notecard, looking at Edward expectantly. “I won’t fight you. You can take it and throw it away. But I think you shouldn’t.”</p><p>Edward stared down at the paper for only a moment before his gaze moved to the white gloves and the salamander embroidered on them.</p><p>“You still use them. Even when you don’t have to.”</p><p>Mustang appeared startled and Edward took a certain degree of pleasure in it. He pulled his fingers away from the card to look at the gloves.</p><p>“Call it set in my ways. Doing fire with circle-less alchemy is impressive, but doesn’t have the same feel to it. I do use it to make the gloves though. They come out quite perfect.”</p><p>Edward nodded, knowing the feeling. “Its because there’s nothing physical in the way. You just have the equation in your mind and the material in front of you. No external shit to mess it  up.”</p><p>“Flawless transmutation as long as you know all of the factors.”</p><p>“Yeah… somethings are just perfect with the right equation.”</p><p>“Most things aren’t.”</p><p>Edward frowned and lowered his gaze. “I still owe you money. Why aren’t you Fuhrer yet?”</p><p>Mustang was so caught off guard that it actually showed on his face. Edward didn’t get any joy from it this time. It said something bad. It said Mustang didn’t want to be reminded. It said something was wrong. Edward eyed the general across the desk, studying him almost.</p><p>“Something happened.”</p><p>“I want to be pissed off that that’s not a question, Ed. Yes, something has happened. I… My opportunity may have been missed. You can keep the 520. There’s a high chance I’ll never be Fuhrer.”</p><p>“Why the fuck not?!” Edward sat up straight. “All that bullshit we went through and what? They won’t let you run or something?”</p><p>“It’s not that, Ed. I’m perfectly capable of running for Fuhrer. Unfortunately, that’s not the problem. Things aren’t how they were.”</p><p>“And what? You’re just giving up!” Edward slammed his hand on Mustang’s desk, his metal hand leaving a dent. “You’re just going to let it happen?!”</p><p>“I’m flattered you think I have lines in this play, Ed.” Mustang didn’t sound remotely flattered. “Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about it and my time to do something is running out.”</p><p>“Well, what the hell do you need to do?!”</p><p>“Something I’m not willing to, Fullmetal!” Mustang snapped, glaring up at him.</p><p>Edward froze under that gaze. It was just as lost and tired as his own.</p><p>“You never stop assuming I’ve already thought of everything possible. You never change.”</p><p>Edward’s heart seized. All the fight left him and pulled back from the desk. He snatched the paper in his flesh hand and turned away quickly to hide the broken spirit he knew was in his eyes. He didn’t want Mustang to think he’d done it. He didn’t want Mustang to believe for one second he had that kind of power. No, this was just <em>everything.</em> Everything he’d ever done. Everything he’d ever tried. Everything. It’d all compounded and just those words were the trigger he didn’t need today.</p><p>“Right. Sorry I bothered you.”</p><p>He didn’t see the look of concern on his face, nor the parted lips ready to call him back. He even ignored the call of his name as he went out the door and slammed it. The others looked alarmed, but he didn’t bother to stop as he made his way to the door. Havoc tried to call him back.</p><p>“Aye, you alright boss? You look like the chief called ya short again!”</p><p>“He probably did,” Breda chuckled, trying to lighten the tension Edward brought in the room.</p><p>“I’m fine!” Edward snarled as he went out the door. He made a point to slam that one as well.</p><p>They looked at the door in complete confusion, even more so when they realized Mustang stood in the doorway of his office staring at the closed door. Elicia slid off of Breda’s desk and went to Mustang, staring up at him with all too familiar weary gaze.</p><p>“What did you do, Uncle Roy?”</p><p>Mustang shook his head, not quite sure.</p><p>“I told him I couldn’t become Furher.”</p><p>Hawkeye stared at him then at the closed door. She made a snap decision and excused herself without explanation. Soon as she closed the door, she ran after Edward, knowing how fast he could move when he was angry. Apparently not so fast. She’d almost jogged right past him. He stood in the civilian waiting area of the Lobby, breathing in and out with his automail arm trembling terribly as he tried to hold it still. Hawkeye sighed and walked towards him slowly.</p><p>“Ed?” she called.</p><p>He tensed and looked over his shoulder at her. “It’s nothing. It’s a nerve thing. I grew out of it last time. It’s lingering this go ‘round.”</p><p>“A malfunction,” she said, offering him an out.</p><p>“Yeah, something like that.”</p><p>Hawkeye nodded. “Ed, how about I buy you lunch.”</p><p>“You’re not off the clock.”</p><p>“No point in being colonel if I don’t break the rules sometimes, right?” Hawkeye replied evenly. “Have lunch with me, Ed. I need to talk to you. It’s important.”</p><p>“If you’re going to tell me I need to see someone, too late.” Edward waved the note. “I already got told to get some help!”</p><p>Hawkeye narrowed her eyes. “It’s not about you, Ed. It’s about the General and why you’re the only chance he has at becoming Fuhrer.”</p><p>Edward’s brows furrowed and his frown deepened. “What…?”</p><p>“Have lunch with me, Edward. We need to talk.”</p><p>She reminded herself to apologize to Gracia, but… this was bigger than any of them.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>decided to go ahead and get chapter two up while I work on chapter 3. Give you something more to sink your teeth into! hope you liked it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Wish For Us All</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Edward wasn’t sure what to make of the far too regal for a military uniform woman who sat across from him in this way too expensive parlor. He felt a sort of trapped as her gaze bore down on him in that scrutinizing way adults had done all his life even when he’d become one himself. Her raven crest hair hung long much like Olivier's but with a sort of muted elegance that didn’t warrant comparison. A white streak spilled from her temple to the floor, accenting her age rather than showing it. Her deep placid red eyes resembled closely to a cooling ember set in her russet careworn skin. High cheeks and angular nose created quite the dignified profile. Edward wanted to get up and leave but, he was very curious about this Ishvalan woman in military blues.</p><p>“So, you’re a general but you’ve only just been re-established.”</p><p>She nodded. “I’ve been here a long time, but yes. I am the former Fuhrer's Sovereign and no, I don’t mean King Bradley.”</p><p>“Yeah… What is exactly… I mean I’m confused as to why the Lieutenant Colonel felt I should meet you, General Gianni.”</p><p>“Mattea is fine and it is because we’re sorely out of options,” she said easily, looking pityingly to Riza.  “I’ve met those who desire the Fuhrership. Had it not been Brigadier General Mustang’s insistence that the former brass that denied Bradley’s right to Fuhrer be pardoned, I would have never come back to Amestris. Thus,  never given a chance to ensure the right person sits the Fuhrer's chair.”</p><p>She took a labored breath and picked up her teacup to drink.</p><p>“The Sovereign Trials are cruel and violent and no place for pacifism. It is a barbaric practice that sings back to Amestris's roots when Xerxes and Amestris and Ishval were mere budding nations. Should it be won, the Sovereign lays the Fuhrership at the feet of their candidate in an act of loyalty and they are given the office for as long as they live. That was how it was, but many are too young to remember and those who aren’t can never deny it’s horror.”</p><p>“I don’t get it. Why can’t you fight for him, Hawkeye? Why is he backing down?” Edward was having a hard time wrapping his mind around just why he was here. “I mean. If it’s just a competition it can’t be that serious. Why’s he givin' up?”</p><p>Riza sighed, much to Mattea’s amusement.</p><p>“Ed, don’t you think I’d have done something by now if it were that simple. The rules are very clear and I am incapable of participating.”</p><p>“The sovereign must be of Lieutenant Colonel rank or higher. They must be battle seasoned in a notable conflict. Their reputation must certainly be intact—”</p><p>“I’m still not seeing why you can’t—”</p><p>“<em>And </em>most importantly, they must be a licensed State Alchemist. The trials involve its uses in battle.”</p><p>Edward paused, his frown deepening as he looked between the women. He opened his mouth but Mattea spoke up.</p><p>“I know what you’re going to say. That you’re retired. Well, let me be the first to tell you, that you are not.”</p><p>“What the fuck do you mean I’m not?”</p><p>“Edward!”</p><p>“It’s quite alright. After what I heard of the Promise Day, I can only imagine you were more than happy to leave it behind. However, at the time Roy Mustang was facing court-martial for treason and had everyone involved – including yourself – not bore witness to what occurred. his career would’ve ended there.”</p><p>“Save the world, still get executed, right.”</p><p>“<em>However,</em> you left before the proceedings were over and you filed your retirement. You had the signatures you needed from everyone<em> except</em> the then-current commander of your post.”</p><p>Edward slapped his forehead. “Fucking Grumman!”</p><p>Riza didn’t even bother to scold him.</p><p>“Are you saying I was active duty this entire time and no one noticed.”</p><p>“Yes and you’ve been paid as well,” Riza replied.</p><p>“Wait if you knew—”</p><p>“I didn’t know until I asked for help finding a candidate. She is currently helping me settle his affairs in his estate, we found your discharge request.”</p><p>“Oh…my fucking…” Edward breathed in deeply. He looked between the two women. “I’m not stupid. You’re trying to convince me to take this on to help Mustang make his Fuhrer dreams come true, but you’re not really catching on that I <em>don’t</em> want to be involved. I wouldn’t have even stopped here had Gracia not called for me.”</p><p>“I am not trying to convince you of anything,” Mattea said evenly. “I would never coerce or threaten anyone into the Sovereign Trials. They are brutal, they are violent, they are humiliating and are deadly. Sovereigns die in these trials, Edward. They are made and broken on the trust between commander and subordinate and I can’t dare try to push anyone to do it. I am merely here to ask.”</p><p>“Then my answer’s no!”  </p><p>Mattea quietly looked at Riza who lowered her eyes.</p><p>“Why did you come to headquarters, Ed? Gracia and Elicia can’t make you do anything you don’t want to. No one can. So why did you come?”</p><p>Words lodged in Edward’s throat and he grit his teeth. There wasn’t a point to grasping for an answer because there wasn’t a satisfying one.</p><p>“I came cause Gracia asked me to take Elicia there. I came to see how you guys were doing. That means I was checkin’ in and then leavin’. I had no intention of getting wrapped up with anything this shitty government is trying to do!” Edward’s heart attempted to jump his throat. “They’ve done enough and I hope Mustang gets where he needs to, but you can’t ask me to do a damn thing else for this country. You don’t have the right to.”</p><p>“Ed—” Riza went to interject but Mattea raised her hand quietly.</p><p>“Edward. I understand. I’ve heard and read of your exploits. Of all you did in the name of good, it was far too much to place on a child.” She smiled. Her deep ruby eyes became soft in a way Edward was not used to seeing in battle-hardened Ishvalans like her. “Mustang understands that as well. That’s why he refused to even ask you to come back. Even when Riza told him of your enlistment status.”</p><p>Edward frowned, his heart thudding hard in his chest as he heard Mustang snapping at him in the office.</p><p>
  <em>“Something I’m not willing to, Fullmetal!”</em>
</p><p>He felt like such an idiot and it only caused the thudding to get sharper. However, in the anxiety, the embers of anger threatened to catch. Why hadn’t Mustang asked him? Why hadn’t he trusted him to make up his own mind about it! Of course, he knew why. He was still a child to most of them, wasn’t he?</p><p>“If it’s something you wouldn’t force anyone to do and you know what it’s about, why would you even bring me here?”</p><p>“We simply thought we’d ask if you’d participate. You’re free to leave when you please, but I beg, humbly, that you take it into consideration before you leave. Look at the state of things. Look at the people around you who are well and good for you sacrifices and what could become of this country the moment we let this happen. A lifetime of people who served under the old government who were more than willing to bring back an archaic practice simply to prevent new thought. Then look at Mustang himself. Think on it. And if your answer is still no by the time you are ready to board the train, you will not hear from me again and there will be no grudge.”</p><p>Edward looked between the two of them and inhaled through his nose, seeking to calm the tremble in his chest. “I’ll think about it.”</p><p>He had no intention of doing so.</p><p>----</p><p>Elicia sat among her school mates opening her presents, looking all of the princess Hughes made her out to be. Her hair was done up cutely to show how much had changed and it wasn’t just girls giving her sweet things and makeup. It was also boys doting on her and blushing when she thanked them. Edward felt a tinge of protectiveness as he sat casually on the couch as Gracia directed the gift-giving. It was weird. Hughes must have somehow passed his fatherly traits onto him because Edward thought about threatening the boys who leaned in a bit too closely with his automail. He’d worn his hair down today because Elicia loved it that way and some of the other parents who’d dropped their kids off for the party eyed him in appreciation and teased Gracia for having such a “dashing young man” hanging around the house. Most of it sounded congratulatory to which Gracia waved them off with the sentiment that he was hers and Hughes’s surrogate son.</p><p>Edward almost missed the days he was easily mistaken as one of the children.</p><p>Still, he helped Gracia with the party games and as it wore on, Edward ended up answering a late arrival while Gracia handled party favors for the riled preteens. Elicia’s laughter was contagious, putting a smile on his face as he opened the door and met Roy Mustang’s surprised eye. Edward blinked, his smile wavering as their bad parting immediately came back to him and his heart leaped into his throat.</p><p>“You look well-rested,” Mustang said with a slight smile.</p><p>“Drugs,” Edward said blandly. “Hardcore drugs.”</p><p>“Better than alcohol,” he replied without missing a beat. “Dr. Travaux never disappoints.”</p><p>“Sounds like you know from experience.” Edward rolled his eyes and stepped aside.</p><p>“Because I do.” Mustang came in and passed a box to Edward as he shirked off his coat. “You <em>do</em> look better.”</p><p>“Don’t take credit for it.”</p><p>“Can’t I be satisfied that you look healthier?”</p><p>“No, because I know what you’re thinking.”</p><p>“And what am I—”</p><p>“Still short though.”</p><p>“…I definitely held that back,” Mustang said, trying not to smile.</p><p>“You can hear it right at the end of the period.”</p><p>Mustang actually laughed and it was loud enough for Elicia to hear and leave her guests to run to him. She jumped him and hugged him tight, legs and all. Edward laughed and was actually impressed Mustang took her sudden weight easily. Guess the Col—General didn’t let himself go in peacetime. Edward moved to take the present over to rest, assuming Elicia would open it when she was interested.</p><p>“Your hair’s down.”</p><p>Edward looked over his shoulder, blinking in confusion before touching it with his flesh hand. “Yeah?”</p><p>“Just, never seen you wear it down so casually.”</p><p>Edward shrugged at the weird comment and put the present down.</p><p>“It’s pretty isn’t it,” Elicia said happily. “He likes to wear it down, but he bitches a lot about it being in the way.”</p><p>Edward and Mustang responded at the same time.</p><p>“Watch your mouth, you lil' shit.”</p><p>“Watch your mouth, Elicia.”</p><p>Elicia looked between the two of them as they blinked comically at each other. She practically cackled and released Roy to go her table.</p><p>“Come on, while there’s still cake Uncle Roy!”</p><p>Edward watched her, gaze squinted.</p><p>“She’s a lot more Hughes than I thought she’d be,” Mustang commented.</p><p>“Like a <em>lot</em> more”</p><p>“Sorry.”</p><p>“Huh?” Edward physically jumped at the sudden apology.</p><p>“For before, in the office. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”</p><p>Edward’s words caught in his throat and he had to lick his lips to get past the lump.</p><p>“Yeah well, we haven’t seen each other in years so obviously we don’t know each other any better than we did before.”</p><p>“I think we never knew each other as well as we thought.”</p><p>Edward nodded, the conversation feeling somewhat surreal.</p><p>“Come on. I’m certain the great Mustang doesn’t keep a lady waiting.”</p><p>“I hear anticipation makes it sweeter.”</p><p>“Whoever said that, lied. It just makes them more likely to beat you up.”</p><p>“Mrs. Rockbell isn’t a great example of the common woman.”</p><p>“Yeah, but that’s what makes Winry better.”</p><p>Gracia had them being the adults in the situation, helping her clear up as they went. Elicia didn’t open Roy’s present until they’d all gone and Edward brought out his. Gracia came with a smaller more beautiful cake that Edward had helped her work on. Well, helped was a strong word. He simply alchemized the icing so that it made a beautiful array much like the medical ones Elicia was working on. He’d been helping her perfect them and it seemed appropriate. Gracia brought her own gift as well and they settled in the living room with Elicia on the floor looking at the cake and its single amber-colored candle. Seeing the genuine, warm smile on Elicia’s face as she leaned forward and blew it out settled against the wound deep inside all of them. Edward could feel the warmth coating the room and the tinge of sadness that was once there had alleviated into fond remembrance as the flame went out.</p><p>“You made a wish, honey?” Gracia asked, passing her the knife.</p><p>“Yep. Wanna know what it is?”</p><p>“You can’t tell people, it won’t come true otherwise.”</p><p>Elicia shook her head and looked up at them. “I always told dad what I wished for. See, if you keep a wish or a dream to yourself, then I think that makes sure it doesn’t come true. I think if you say it out loud. If you shout it to the rooftops and tell everyone you care about, then that means you won’t be alone in trying to make it come true.”</p><p>Edward’s brows rose in surprised and he was sure Mustang and Gracia’s faces mirrored his. However, Mustang broke the silence and smiled at Elicia.</p><p>“What did you wish for, Elicia?”</p><p>Elicia looked at the smoke on the candle her smile widened. “To be a Medical State Alchemist.”</p><p>Gracia’s smile waned and it was a bit painful for Edward to watch her put it back together.</p><p>“I think its one that can come true,” Edward said honestly. “With the right help, right?”</p><p>“Yeah!” Elicia said excitedly. “Besides, Uncle Roy is going to be Fuhrer someday. I wanna be a state alchemist under him like you were, big brother. And I want everything I do to be about saving people!”</p><p>“Aye, better than what I went in for,” Edward said lightly as he rubbed the back of his head.</p><p>“I think we can make it happen someday,” Mustang offered. “But for now, you should open your presents. See if they’re something that’s going to help you make that wish come true!”</p><p>With each book Elicia excitedly pulled out of Edward’s gift box, he felt Gracia grow more and more distant, her smile more and more forced despite her calm façade. She cleaned up while Elicia smiled and hugged each book excitedly. It wasn’t helped by Mustang’s gift of fresh expensive notebooks and fine imported, waterproof inks. By the time the sun set, Gracia had secluded herself to the kitchen while Edward helped Elicia put things away in Hughes’s old drawing-room. She was so happy, her steps light as she organized each thing in perfect spaces. Much more space-conscious than Edward had ever been at her age in his research.</p><p>“Thank you, Ed.”</p><p>“For what?”</p><p>“I…I’ve been wanting this for a long time and wanting a way to tell my mom. I know she doesn’t want me to work for the military. I know she doesn’t want me to be a state alchemist. But… it’s what <em>I</em> want. I want to be in a place where I can do the most good.”</p><p>“Elicia...”</p><p>Elicia looked up at her with that careless half-smile that made Edward’s chest want to cave in.</p><p>“Because, if there was someone like me. If there was someone who wasn’t just used as a weapon. Or even someone just passing by with the right skills…” Elicia’s voice cracked. She cleared her throat and lifted her chin, determined even as her eyes shimmered at the brim. “I’m going to be that change, no matter what. That’s who I am. That’s who I want to be. I want to save lives in my own way, just like he saved lives in <em>his</em> own way. Just like he saved Uncle Roy’s… and saved yours. I figured out how to make my legs keep moving.”</p><p>Edward stared at Elicia for a long time before he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her tightly and hugged her to his chest. They both could hear Gracia’s sobs from the kitchen, the very real and honestly righteous anger in her voice as she yelled at Mustang over daring to encourage her to put herself in danger. Elicia nuzzled her chest.</p><p>“She doesn’t understand.”</p><p>Edward shook his head. “No. She does. All moms understand. They understand when someone they love is drawn away from them. But they’re human too, ya know. It hurts when someone they love might leave and never come back. It hurts even more when it comes true.”</p><p>Elicia looked up at him with tears streaking her face.</p><p>“I…I didn’t check the door today. After I decided, I didn’t check the door.”</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Once all had calmed, Elicia asked to stay in the study and Edward respectfully left her to it. He went out into the living room to find Mustang passing a glass of gin to Gracia and muttering his goodbyes and she apologized with careworn face. Edward felt like he’d walked in on something private and made his way quietly to the door.</p><p>“Ed,” Gracia called out and Edward tensed, half expecting to be yelled at as well. Still he looked back at her. “Thank you. Thank you for believing in her where I just… can’t.”</p><p>Edward nodded. “It was a good day, Gracia. Let it stay one.”</p><p>Mustang eyed him as he stood up straight and Gracia told them she would lock the door in a moment. They both quietly donned their coats and Mustang closed the gently. They stepped off the porch and Edward went to part, seeking to head back to the hotel while Mustang went to his driver.</p><p>“Fullmetal?”</p><p>Edward paused and looked back at the man, his eyes adjusting as the street lamps came on and illuminated the blonde of his hair.</p><p>“Wanna get a drink? I’ll make sure you get home.”</p><p>Edward wasn’t sure why he did it, or why he even considered it. He didn’t even drink often. He supposed he just didn’t want to go back to the bare emptiness of the hotel just yet. He didn’t want to pop a pill just to make sure he didn’t end up in the laundry room again.</p><p>“Yeah. Sure.”</p><p>They ended up at Madame Christmas's place. Discreet. They wouldn’t be bothered by anyone recognizing his or Mustang’s face and they could share a drink in peace without the stiffness of a military office. Edward even ordered an alcoholic drink and ignored the impressed hum from Madame Christmas as she poured him a glass of bourbon.  Edward found he couldn’t drink things like beers and ales. He preferred the smooth burn of aged liquor. He didn’t comment when Mustang ordered the same on the rocks though after a moment he became curious. Edward quirked a brow.</p><p>“Here I thought you’d prefer it warm.”</p><p>Mustang eyed Edward’s drink. “I thought you wouldn’t drink at all, much less prefer it warm.”</p><p>“I like it warm,” he said taking a sip. “I can taste everything and feels good going down.”</p><p>“Spoken like a connoisseur.  When did you start drinking?”</p><p>Edward had to think hard about it as he’d had his first taste at thirteen and found the shit utter garbage. But he had his first taste of pure aged whiskey in the north when he traveled there to explore once he wasn’t a military man. The taste drove the cold away and Edward found it acceptable. However, when he first started <em>drinking </em>was Al’s engagement party. He and Ling enjoyed several rounds of bourbon that’d been gifted to him in goodwill from Central. Edward got down in his cups and both he and Ling found their way into each others’ clothes. It had been satisfying at the moment and they never spoke of it past a fond memory. That didn’t stop Ling attempting to invite him back even after his marriage. Edward guessed Xingese rulers could do whatever they wanted.</p><p>“A Xingese engagement party,” Edward said with a fond smile. “Al's to be exact. Ling had some good shit and I found out I actually enjoy alcohol. I think I’m just snobby though.”</p><p>He didn’t bother nor dare to mention that most of his drunken stories ended in the sheets. Seemed too much information. What could he say, he was a flirty drunk. Which was exactly why this would be the only glass he had tonight.</p><p>“Nothing snobby about having a preference.”</p><p>Edward hummed in response and took another sip. The tender left them to their drinks to tend her other patrons. They sat in a companionable quiet that Edward for once didn’t feel awkward about. It was a far cry from invigorating conversation, but, it wasn’t the utter empty silence that followed him around when he was alone. Still, Edward had a burning question on his tongue that loosened on his third sip.</p><p>“Colonel?”</p><p>“Mm?” He didn’t even bother to correct him and Edward was grateful for it.</p><p>“Elicia wants to be a State Alchemist. She’s fourteen now. Older than I was when I joined. When Gracia told me she was looking to HQ, I thought… I thought we had nothing to worry about. But, she knows what she wants and if she’s anything like Hughes--"</p><p>“She’s exactly like him. Hughes just did whatever he said he would do. Whatever he wanted no matter what it was and would just promise he had a reason. Even though she didn’t have him, I see more and more of him in her every day.”</p><p>“Yeah…” Edward gave a fond smile. “She’s smart. Maybe not a genius but she’s smart, observant, and she learns really fast. She’s perceptive and knew just right when to say what she wanted.”</p><p>“She knew I’d calm Gracia down and knew you’d support her. Heh, just like him,” Mustang muttered softly. “Why’d you bring her up?”</p><p>“Because I wanted to know if she had a future.”</p><p>Mustang paused mid-sip.  Edward pressed on.</p><p>“You said you couldn’t become fuhrer. That there was a chance you never would. Does she have a future if it’s not under you?”</p><p>Mustang was silent and with each second Edward felt his heart sink. What other answer was there when many of the old guard sat on the brass despite reformation. A state alchemist was still a weapon. Edward would be damned if they did that to Elicia.</p><p>“I’m not going to stop her. I won’t stop her and if I won’t that means that something needs to change. Right?”</p><p>“Fullmetal, I don’t know what you want me to do.” His helpless tone making Edward’s stomach turn. “What it takes is me risking someone’s life with no guarantee they’ll survive it. I’m not going to make that choice just to get a leg up. Especially not with everything everyone went through just to get this far.”</p><p>Edward couldn’t help but recount how many fell by wayside and the body count that racked up because of he and Mustang combined. Inadvertently or not, they’d caused loss of life whether it be through ignorance or through carelessness. The loss of Hughes was a crime of both.</p><p>“So, you’re scared.” Edward’s tone was nastily bitter.</p><p>“What?” Mustang’s was equally so.</p><p>“You’re scared. You saved the world at nearly the cost of everyone close to you, and now you’re scared to take the last plunge and directly order someone into the line of fire to get you where you need to be.”</p><p>
  <em>Say it. Just say it.</em>
</p><p>“As always, you put that brilliant mind to work and arrive at the wrong conclusion. I’ve ordered countless soldiers to their death because it was their job. This isn’t a job. This isn’t just a war on a battlefield. I refuse to have anyone else die for me.”</p><p><em>Just ask me. Say you want me to do it</em>.</p><p>“You had no trouble sending a child to fight monsters. You had no trouble parading me around for the brass like a trained dog – you did, you fuckin bastard, don’t you fucking deny it – and you had absolutely no goddamn problem with sending me into a warzone. So what’s your fucking problem now?”</p><p>Mustang stared quietly at Edward, the realization and much worse, the condescension in his eyes making him feel small. As if he’d just thrown a tantrum and perhaps he did. It was the calmest tantrum he’d ever had, but the point was still there and Edward almost looked away but he kept his resolve.</p><p>Mustang didn’t insult him by asking how he knew. </p><p>“Edward.” His heart sunk just that much further and flipped his stomach something hard. He couldn’t remember when Mustang said his full name that way. Never in that voice that admonished him so fully. Still, the general spoke through gritted teeth. “Consider, just once, that I think of everything you’ve said every day and think that for once, just once, I don’t want to use you for my own gain. That I don’t want to hurt you.”</p><p>
  <em>For once. Let me decide if I want to be hurt!</em>
</p><p>Those words lodged in Edward’s throat. He couldn’t voice them, couldn’t deal with the heavy pounding in his chest that made him dizzy. He didn’t want to think about the sincerity in those words, even if they were spoken in bitter frustration.  Fuck. Edward grabbed his glass and down the rest of the bourbon in a single gulp. He slammed the glass on the counter and threw a few cenz next to it.</p><p>“Ed, stop.”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>“Let me get you home.”</p><p>“I need the fresh air.”</p><p>“So you’re running away again.”</p><p>Edward paused and glared directly at Roy, the amber of his eyes a blazing gold as the anxiety filtered into something much more comfortable to him. Pure vengeful pissitivity.</p><p>“I have never run away from anything.” Each word was sneered. “I didn’t run when my leg was ripped off. I didn’t run when my arm was too. I didn’t run when you offered me central. I didn’t run when I got my fucking hands dirty with Shou Tucker!”</p><p>
  <em>Why didn’t you just ask…</em>
</p><p>“I sure as fuck didn’t run when Hughes's blood was on both our hands! And I didn’t fuckin run when I found out who you were, what you did, and what it meant! I’ve known you all this time and you ain’t worth the stamina it takes for a goddamn brisk dash to the bathroom! The only one running is you and I’m not fucking letting you pull me with you!”</p><p>“And what the hell are you planning to do?” Mustang’s smirk was so sardonic that Edward wanted to put his whole leg down his throat. “Hop on a train and pass by for another six years!”</p><p>Edward curled his lip, feeling more himself than he had in years as he held fast to that anger that was always so satisfying when directed at Mustang. </p><p>“I’m doing what I need to for Elicia. Maybe you’ll nut up and do the fucking same! Grow the fuck up, Colonel.”</p><p>Edward didn’t wait for rebuttal or the apology that chased him out of the bar. He was too fucking done with Mustang right now. Knowing that Elicia wouldn’t stop till she got what she wanted no matter what anyone said. Knowing that Mustang was doing this out of some misplaced fuckery to protect him. Knowing that he’d turned down the chance to help Mustang to Riza’s and Mattea's face. Edward walked with a burning in his blood that could’ve burned concrete. He left all this behind for a reason! He didn’t come back here because this was how it was. There would always be a crisis. There would always be something that threatened to bring him in! There was always some bullshit to trap him and he couldn’t help. He hated Mustang for trying to protect him from like he was some naïve kid still. He knew exactly how fucked the military was and how fucked it still was! It was why he stayed away. This wasn’t his fight and yet he couldn’t help but want a stake in it. Fuck!</p><p> </p><p>The door opened to General Gianni leaning on her cane, her hair braided for the night but no less regal at her door.</p><p>“I’m not used to having fine young men call upon me in the middle of the night,” she said with an indulgent smile.</p><p>“Gross.” Edward said promptly as he pushed inside her home. “I need you to tell me about the trials. Why is Mustang so goddamn scared? Why are <em>you</em> for that matter?”</p><p>Mattea blinked down at him as she closed her door, but her patient smile never left her face. “He’s scared because of what he’d have to do to a soldier in the midst of the trials.”</p><p>“And what’s that?”</p><p>“He’d have to have a perfect bond of trust with his subordinate,” She replied moving to her couch and offering Ed a seat. “A subordinate has to trust General Mustang to keep them alive. To save them. To give orders that will protect them.”</p><p>“Isn’t that normal soldier shit?” Edward flopped down on the seat, trying to figure out what the fuck was the big deal about this trial! “It shouldn’t be that hard to ask—”</p><p>“He has to be trusted to hurt you as well. And order you to be hurt. And stand by as you <em>are</em> hurt.”</p><p>Edward’s brows furrowed; head tipped in confusion. “…what do you mean trust him to hurt m—them.”</p><p>Mattea smiled knowingly. “You are both being tested in the trials. Your loyalty and his stolidity. If he is so soft that he can’t watch his best soldier be in pain, be hurt, and be near death… then how does he plan to keep a clear head for an entire country, Edward? He has to know how to discipline and take you being disciplined.”</p><p>“That’s…fucking sick.”</p><p>“It is… but Amestris’s Fuhrers were made powerful, immobile, and <em>humbled</em> by the experience. Many a sovereign and candidate had feelings for each other and foolishly entered, unable to keep those feelings in check. And were disqualified quickly. Many care nothing for their sovereign and did not show proper judgment in handling them and were disqualified quickly. There is a balance. And that balance lies in the bond.”</p><p>Edward fell silent staring at his hand.</p><p>“What will you do? You’re considering it, but after what I’ve told you, it feels like the answer is still no.” Mattea sighed and rested her cheek on her fist, looking towards the fireplace. “Don’t waste my time with what you don’t know, Edward. I am not one to be given false hope.”</p><p>“My train out is tomorrow afternoon...” He muttered.</p><p>“Then be on it. I told you, I won’t stop you if your answer is no. But do not be a child about it as if its Mustang’s fault that he has no desire to harm you.”</p><p>Edward’s head shot up to look at her, but Mattea kept her incarnadine gaze to the fire. His face twisted into a glare.</p><p>“It’s his fault because he’s only thinking about what <em>he</em> won’t do! He…He didn’t even tell me about it. He didn’t even ask.”</p><p>“You ran away for years from my understanding, why would he even think you were an option when you didn’t even want to be here.”</p><p>Edward cringed. She said it out loud. What he’d feared and why he couldn’t stand to stay and HQ, why he couldn’t just smile and make it okay to have shown up after all that time…</p><p>“I <em>don’t</em> want to be here…”</p><p>Mattea turned her gaze to him slowly. “Then leave, Edward.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Roy sat humiliatingly among the brass with a tired expression on his face. Edward had gone. He’d checked out when Roy went to find him. When he asked if he’d said goodbye to Elicia and Gracia, they both shrugged. No one had heard from him in the past two weeks and he supposed that was fine. It was probably better after what he’d said to him. No, it was definitely for the best. He didn’t regret not asking for Edward’s help. He didn’t regret not involving him. He only regretted his last words. His last words said in cowardice because he was too scared to ever put Edward’s life in danger like that. He wouldn’t be that sort of Fuhrer. Never one who built his reign on the suffering of others. If that was the case, he would never sit the seat and he made peace with that.</p><p>He watched each sovereign approach and name their candidate. Each held a banner in the symbolism of their chosen general. The majority were female. Demure and small. He wasn’t surprised. The Generals were mostly men with the archaic idea that women were easier to control. Once the last strolled up, he prepared to stand up and applaud the chosen candidates alongside Riza who looked defeated despite keeping her expression blank. What could they do? There was no one.</p><p>“I, Lieutenant Colonel Edward Elric, codenamed The Fullmetal Alchemist and decorated Hero of the People-“</p><p>Roy looked up with eyes wide in complete and utter horror. Edward stood at the center stage in his red and black with hair pulled back properly from his face.  What the <em>fuck </em>was he doing?!</p><p>“—being of sound body and mind at age of 23, declare my sovereignty for the trials. I put forth Major General Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist and Hero of Ishval, for the Fuhrership! I will be his sovereign and lay my life and, upon my success, the entirety of Amestris into his hands.”</p><p>Edward turned emblazoned gold directly to Roy without waiver or nervousness. A look Roy had not been on the receiving end of in years.</p><p>“Does the Major General accept my nomination?”</p><p>Roy stood gaping like an idiot for only a second before he composed himself and set himself to decline but… the glare affixed on him gave him pause. Edward wasn’t here to hear no. Roy could tell he wasn’t. He was daring Roy to humiliate himself and Edward by declining. He was challenging Roy’s pride because it was so easy for Roy to protect those he cared about in the shadows. It was easy to deny them the option to put themselves in danger when it was just in his office or over a drink in a bar. But here… Edward had backed Roy into the corner.</p><p>“I,” Roy stood at attention, under the sneer and glare of several of his fellow generals. “Major General Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, accept your sovereignty and will be your candidate.”</p><p>"Sir..." Riza whispered in shock.</p><p>Edward smirked in triumph and Roy wanted to throw him off the stage. He clapped his hands and touched the deep red of his coat as alchemy pulled it from him. It became a red banner with Roy’s flame upon it.</p><p>“My banner is red. My crest is the salamander array. I hereby debut as the Major General Roy Mustang’s sovereign, until my death or loss of confidence.”</p><p>Roy grit his teeth, glaring up at Edward on the stage.  <em>You goddamn fool, Ed.</em></p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Roy's not happy... Like at all. </p><p>Thank you for reading and the kind comments!!! </p><p>Next, we get into the trial details and more of Roy and Ed finding each other insufferable.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Bound by Iron and Ink</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which both candidate and sovereign learn that this isn't a game...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What in the <em>Fuck</em> were you thinking?!”</p><p>“Oh, hard F, General. Not a nice thing to say to the person who just saved your ass!”</p><p>“You didn’t save anyone, Ed! You literally put your fuckin’ life in danger like you <em>always</em> do without a single thought to the consequences!”</p><p>“And <em>you</em> decided to make a goddamn decision <em>for</em> me instead of just opening your stupid mouth. So now we’re both unhappy!”</p><p>Roy’s hands tensed. Never in his life had he had a real desire to hurt Edwards, but right now, he wanted to strangle him until his windpipe crushed so he’d never be able to make another dumbass, audible decision ever again. How could he stand there as they argued in hushed shouts with his arms crossed with a straight goddamn face after forcing Roy into a corner like this? How could he be that damn smug about the entire thing?</p><p>“Who put you up to this? Who told you what to do!”</p><p>“A book.”</p><p>“I will kill you.”</p><p>“I’d murder your old ass.” Edward sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’ve been staying at General Mattea’s place.”</p><p>“I can’t believe she—”</p><p>“She didn’t, asshole. Contrary to what you fucking think, I’m capable of making a goddamn decision, unlike you!” Edward sneered.  “I been reading up on the trials and trying to figure out if I <em>could</em> go through with it since your ass wasn’t going to do anything. I learned what to say, I learned how to present myself for the Debut and Mattea’s having my uniform made for me. Gotta wear the colors apparently, which is some dumb shit, but at least I got to pick.”</p><p>Roy rubbed his face and shook his head. This was not happening. He was not doing something as dangerous and absolutely screwed as the Sovereign Trials with Edward of all people. The same Edward who couldn’t even respect his wishes or listen to him on a good day and shot him the middle finger on a bad one.</p><p>“Why would you do this, Ed? I told you this wasn’t what I want—”</p><p>“I don’t <em>care </em>what you wanted.”</p><p>It was spoken low and firm. Authoritative in a way he’d never heard Edward before and it forced him to look at him. He stood straight up; arms crossed with his eyes glaring up at Roy.</p><p>“I. Don’t. <em>Care</em>. You didn’t ask what <em>I</em> wanted. What I was willing to do to give Elicia a future. You made the decision for me and for <em>her</em>. If you think this is about you, it isn’t. And if you think you’re going to run away from this, I’m going to come for your sorry ass so cold you’re going to <em>wish</em> I’d disappeared for another six years.”</p><p>Roy sighed and looked up at the ceiling praying for patience. There was still time. There was still a way out for Edward. The Debut ceremony would commence and Edward would have to sign the sovereign’s contract that would give his freedom and his rights over to Roy. He could talk him out of it. He could make him leave before he signed that paper and committed.</p><p>“Ed, please, <em>listen</em> to me.”</p><p>Edward averted his eyes in annoyance, but he didn’t move away as he would’ve normally done. Roy found himself somewhat grateful for that difference.</p><p>“I want you to withdraw your sovereignty. You proved your point. I should’ve just spoke to you about it, I should’ve just let you decide for yourself. But this is not the time to stick it to me just because you wanted to prove you were all grown up! Withdraw and go home, Ed!”</p><p>Edward cut his eyes at him and Roy lost every bit of nerve he had. That look. He wasn’t used to such a face. Oh, Edward had glared at him many times. Yelled and kicked and screamed at him too. But this… this expression Roy wasn’t accustomed to in the other. One he didn’t know how to diffuse. A silent rage that he didn’t know how to respond to because Edward’s rage had never <em>ever</em> been silent. It was pointed, it was fierce and it was laced with a decidedly muted pain. Roy watched as Edward turned on his heels and walked away from him.</p><p>“Let’s go. They’re about to start.”</p><p>He left Roy there, meaning to enter the meeting hall alone which would further humiliate Roy if he showed no confidence in his Sovereign. He rubbed his face and straightened his posture.</p><p>“Okay,” he whispered to himself as he caught up to Edward. Grabbed his shoulder and was grateful the other didn’t deck him in the face. He silently offered the crook of his arm to Edward, deciding to do this properly. “Please withdraw when we get in there, Fullmetal.”</p><p>Edward’s brow twitched as he continued to glare coldly at him. He roughly wrapped his arm around Roy’s. The automail felt heavier through the layers and Roy wondered when Edward had had time to send for his battle-mail. Two weeks wasn’t a long time to prepare but, he supposed Edward was not one to waste even a fraction of a moment. Then again… he never had been once he decided on something. Roy watched the way Edward squared his shoulder, ponytail swaying against his lower back and chin raising higher. Roy did the same and tried not to think about how much more prepared for this Ed was than him.</p><p>They entered together and took their place amongst the other candidates. There were surprisingly many. Many that he knew wouldn’t last long. The sovereign trials were opened to any and all who sat the brass and that was anyone with the ranking of colonel or higher. However, these were fresh faces to the trial. Younger than even Roy who was the youngest general present. Men and women stood at the sides of their chosen candidates in the colors of choices but Roy focused on the four specific alchemists who stood beside his most outspoken rivals.</p><p>General Marcus Spearwort stood stout and sour-faced beside a full-figured, uniformed alchemist. A woman who had a hardness behind her eyes that Roy knew had seen battle. She was at least Roy’s height and her russet curls were pulled back in a half tail. She was dressed well, probably having prepared for weeks to take on this challenge in full dress.</p><p>General Frank Archer, an upstart who’d gotten his promotion at the same time Roy had. Highly decorated and notoriously cunning. He and Roy had been put on completely opposite sides of command because putting them in a room together was straight gasoline ready to spark. His icy blue eyes weren’t straight ahead but rather eyeing Edward from his place and Roy instinctually tightened the fold of his arm around Edward’s. Archer’s alchemist was a beautiful and petite woman of dark hair and rounded oceanic eyes. Most likely from Creta with her olive features. She held her head high but there was insecurity in her posture as she flicked her eyes every now and then to Archer who paid her no attention. She closed her eyes for a moment and then continued to stare straight ahead.</p><p>Then there was General Halcrow. The one who would’ve done anything to keep the Fuhrer seat for himself. While he could be a good man, Roy could never trust his ambition any further than Halcrow trusted his. Halcrow was the one who pushed for the Trials to come back into existence for his own gain and he stood a real threat with an alchemist whose name Roy specifically knew. Colonel Victorique Marquis, the Deluge Alchemist. She was beautiful with her porcelain features, sharp profile, and soft curves. Roy admittedly entertained her on one or more occasions when he was still a Lt. Colonel, though it was a strict rule between them to be unarmed around each other. They didn’t mix well once he gained rank and she didn’t despite her loyalty to Halcrow. She held attention well standing at Halcrow’s shoulder and she showed absolutely no interest in the proceedings. Perfectly trained. Perfectly a slave. Roy both pitied her position and feared Edward coming up against her. Edward would hesitate to hurt anyone, much less kill them. Marquis fought to kill. He’d seen her do it.</p><p>Mattea stood up from her chair, balancing on her cane with sharp posture and narrowed eyes as she surveyed all of the hopefuls within the room.</p><p>“Seal the doors. The Debut Ceremony will commence.” Her voice was firm and echoed in the dimly lit hall.</p><p>The door closed with a dramatic click and Roy felt the metal fingers in Edward’s hand tighten just so. He glanced down at him from the corner of his eye-catching the bob of his Adam’s apple.</p><p>Mattea stepped into the center and lifted her chin in order to enunciate.</p><p>“My name is Brigadier General Mattea Gianni. I am the last surviving Sovereign of Amestris and as is my duty I will sit judge and jury with the leaders from all four corners of the continent as Amestris chooses a leader. First, I will say to those who manage not to flee this room once the ceremony commences, thank you for your service to Amestris. You are part of a grand tradition, one that has both built and destroyed Amestris long before King Bradley falsely sat the Fuhrership.”</p><p>A few whispered and shifting, spoke of discomfort in mentioning Bradley. Even now, there were those who still believed he was innocent. Some had even tried for Roy’s throat on more than one occasion. He wondered how their loyalty to Bradley would hold when they saw just what fighting for the Fuhrership was truly like.</p><p>“You are responsible for the path of Amestris’s future and that is no trivial matter. If there is anyone with doubt in their stomach; if there is anyone who is in “love” with their candidate; if there is anyone who has been coerced, forced, or even <em>bribed</em> into participation, I ask that you leave now. I will allow you to walk out of those doors before your name is called to present yourself and sign the contract that will bind you to the trials and to your candidate. There will be no penalty. No shame. No punishment. There will be no slander of your name and no one will look down on you for choosing the safest path and withdrawing.”</p><p>Roy leaned over, mouth poised to whisper as he loosened his hold on Edward. However, Edward’s automail hand dug into his arm keeping their connection and causing him to grit his teeth in pain.</p><p>“Don’t. You. Fucking. <em>Dare.</em>”</p><p>It wasn’t said aloud or even whispered. It was mouthed slowly ensuring that Roy could read Edward’s lips. He closed his eyes and returned his head forward. Edward would back down. He’d have to. Once he saw the binding ceremony, he would balk. Even Edward was not above his own pride and wouldn’t submit to the humiliation. There was no chance in hell he would.</p><p>A few shuffled in the room, but none left yet.</p><p>Mattea hummed. “You are welcome to leave as long as you have not signed. Remember that. We shall begin with the recitation of the contract stipulations! If you speak during this, you will be thrown out. If you move or ask any questions, you will be thrown out. This is not a game. If you disadvantage any other sovereign by preventing them from hearing the stipulations, I will personally demote you. These are lives you are toying with, candidates. Do not think anything otherwise.”</p><p>When no one moved and silence reigned over, two officers came with a table and lay a stack of finely printed parchments on the table, a set of fountain pens ready for use. Mattea straightened herself and no longer used her cane, showing decorum.</p><p>“Stipulation 1 of the Sovereign Trials: The sovereign recognizes that this is voluntary. However, once they sign this binding document, they sign their command, well being, and subordinance to their candidate until the conclusion of the trials. They will sacrifice their full freewill to their commanding officer. If they choose to forfeit the trials at any point their candidate will face demotion and forfeit his or her right to bid for Fuhrer in all future elections.”</p><p>A few of the sovereign’s looked to their candidates a bit nervously, while others appeared to think twice. Total submission to someone was a high price to ask. A soldier was used to making decisions in the moment if it would save their lives. If an officer asked them not to… well… that was a daunting scenario. Yet, Edward stood poise at Roy’s side. Had he really come to terms with this in a matter of a couple of weeks?</p><p>“Stipulation 2 of the Sovereign Trails: The sovereign is not allowed to associate with any high-ranking personnel outside of the candidate's own subordinates. The sovereign must submit to a physical and mental evaluation to ensure they are of sound enough mind and in physical shape to participate in the more strenuous and psychological trials.  These evaluations will be staged after each trial, including this ceremony. Should the sovereign be found lying on either of these examinations, they will be immediately court-martialed and discharged. Should a candidate attempt to lie <em>for</em> their sovereign, they will be court-martialed and discharged. If there are any with underlying health problems that will prevent them from partaking, don’t waste my time.”</p><p>Roy frowned as some of the sovereigns pulled away from their candidates and head to the door. Not surprising. That was far too great of a risk for a lie that probably wouldn’t fly past the examiners. He wondered if Edward’s automail would be considered a hindrance. He prayed that it would.</p><p>“Stipulation 3 of the Sovereign Trials: The sovereign understands that any public show of insubordination or disrespect to their candidate will be punished under the witness of the brass and the sovereign's sponsors at the hand of their candidate. In relation, should the sovereign show disrespect to another candidate or their sovereign in any public capacity, they will be publicly punished at the hand of their candidate. This includes beatings, lashes, and other forms of corporal punishment in full view of the public and brass.”</p><p>“Fuck that.”</p><p>A few murmured in agreement and exited. The pool getting smaller and smaller. Mattea scoffed.</p><p>“It’s sad to see the lack of discipline within Amestris’s finest.”</p><p>Roy closed his eyes, wanting to fucking shove Edward out of the room by force because the other showed no sign of moving even though he could tell he was biting the inside of his cheek.</p><p>
  <em>Come on, Ed. This is too far…</em>
</p><p>“Stipulation 4 of the Sovereign Trials: The sovereign recognizes that these trials are life-threatening and should they die, they shall be given full honors and pension for their remaining loved ones. They will be allowed military plot, funeral rights, and full decorations. Each Sovereign must have a living will in place before the signing of the contract. If you do not have one right now at current, then I ask that you leave.”</p><p>A few curses as more left. Edward still hadn’t moved. Roy felt his palms begin to sweat in his gloves. When had he had the time?!</p><p>“Stipulation 5 of the Sovereign Trials: A Candidate shall <em>never</em> put their hands on another’s sovereign in any sexual or violent capacity. Should a candidate assault any sovereign during the trials, they will be publicly punished, stripped of rank, and court-martialed and sentenced. Should a Candidate put their hands on another Candidate in any capacity – unless it is in defense of their sovereign – they shall be demoted and barred from the trial permanently. This is not a game and your sovereigns are not <em>toys.</em> You cause undo harm; you will be tried.”</p><p>Roy hissed through his teeth at the way Edward’s automail hand clung to him. He supposed he couldn’t blame him. Even he had wondered what had happened in the past to warrant this rule to be made clear and distinct rather than just implied. He didn’t have to imagine much as he saw the nonchalant smirk that graced Archer’s face. He doubted the other would do anything, but it was enough to intimidate a few into leaving. A General smirking at that stipulation frightened others into believing he would try. Even with the harsh punishment, many weren’t willing to risk that sort of humiliation and violence.</p><p>Mattea looked at the remaining. A group of sixty pairs amongst them. Still too many. Ah well. She gestured to the table.</p><p>“Once this contract is signed, the sovereign and candidate must plan their debut. This requires finding a trusted tailor for the uniforms and formal wear for the debut ceremony in which they are registered and meet their competitors face to face and speak about their chosen candidate and for the concordant ball in which they are to display their social grace, ability to network, and most importantly their compatibility before the final trial. The sovereign understands that should their candidate win, they are permanently ranked as the Sovereign of Amestris at the side of that Fuhrer until they step down or die and the trials are initiated once again should they still be in place. They will be the acting Fuhrer should the Fuhrer be absent. Am I clear Sovereigns?!”</p><p>Edward breathed out a shaky breath and joined the chorus alongside him with a loud, “Ma’am, yes Ma’am!”</p><p>Mattea nodded.</p><p>“We shall commence in alphabetical order by candidate. Come when your name is called. You will be named and examined for any signs of tamper before you sign. Tomorrow you will be scheduled for medical and psychological examination. Once you sign, you shall be bound.”</p><p>Edward’s brows furrowed.</p><p>Ah, this was where he knew Edward would break. The book didn’t speak of all parts of the trials. Only the rules, traditions, and protocols. It was a glorified guidebook, not informative as it should’ve been and made the trials seem more glorified than it was. That’s how it lured in the hopeful and dashed their hopes immediately.</p><p>“Brigadier General Frank Archer step forward and submit your sovereign.”</p><p>Archer walked forward with the woman at his side, she easily moved to stand in front of him before Mattea and the officers who’d brought the supplies. One of them pulled a medical bag from the table and placed it next to him. Mattea took a seat and nodded to Archer.</p><p>“Remove your clothes including your undergarment and spread your arms,” Archer ordered.</p><p>“The fuck,” Edward whispered and he wasn’t alone.</p><p>“I warned you,” Roy whispered.</p><p>“Fuck off. Is he really going to examine her in front of everyone?”</p><p>“It’s a humiliation tactic. She’ll be more honest if she’s vulnerable. If she has nothing to hide, she’ll withstand it.”</p><p>“That’s sick…”</p><p>The woman removed her clothes with shaky hands but stood up straight and spread her arms. The examiner searched her, including cavity and Roy averted his gaze away for at least her sake. He noted that Edward had his gaze lowered as well.</p><p>“State your full name, rank, and title,” the examiner said as he tilted her head up to check her eyes for any sign she’d been drugged.</p><p>“Anemone DeChanelle, Lt. Colonel. Eurus Alchemist.”</p><p>Archer lifted his chin proudly as she didn’t falter in her response. The examiner nodded and gave her several shots.</p><p>“You may dress Lt. Colonel,” Archer said with a smirk.</p><p>She nodded and began to put her clothes back on methodically. Once she stepped back into her boots, she moved over to the contract. She picked up the pen and signed it then passed the pen to Archer who signed it as well. It was taken and a box was presented to Archer.</p><p>“Now, Candidate Archer. Bind your sovereign.”</p><p>Archer opened the box revealing and alchemized collar with braided gold wrapped around it leading to a gold-plated D-ring.</p><p>“Kneel.”</p><p>Anemone went to her knees and lifted her head to bear her neck.</p><p>“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me,” Edward whispered.</p><p>“What the hell did you think the book meant?”</p><p>“Symbolism or some shit, not a full ass fucking collar!” Edward sneered.</p><p>“Leave,” Roy hissed.</p><p>“Die.”</p><p>“You don’t want this. You never wanted to be anyone’s dog. Now is the time to leave and we can forget this ever happened—”</p><p>“But they won’t, will they?” Edward whispered. “They won’t forget. They’ll look at you and think what a fuckin’ coward his sovereign was. That you couldn’t even train up a single sovereign to take the fall for you. That you’re weak. Right?”</p><p>“That’s irrelevant”</p><p>“But it’s not wrong, is it? I told you why I was doing this and it’s not for you. I’ve handled much worse than a goddamn piece of metal around my neck.”</p><p>“But it’s the last humiliation for you, Ed!”</p><p>“And one I’ll take if it means someone better than these fucks can make a place that my family can be happy! Do you <em>want</em> another Bradley?”</p><p>Roy closed his eyes, unsure of how to get this through his head. “I don’t want to be here.”</p><p>“Liar.” Edward hissed immediately. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have come in here with me. If you hadn’t, you would’ve dragged me out kicking and screaming. If you didn’t want this badly, we wouldn’t be arguing. You’d just leave!” Edward looked up at him as they called the next and the next as the went back and forth. “You already <em>know</em> you still <em>want</em> this shit more than anything, you asshole. Now we’re just going through the goddamn motions. Either shut the fuck up and let me wrap my head around the fact that I’m about to be publicly naked and on my knees in front of you or walk the fuck out of here right now.”</p><p>Roy fell silent, his teeth gritted in anger. Edward had fully and wholly called him out and he couldn’t even retort. Edward was right. Fuck, he was right. He wanted to do this. He wanted to at least take the chance. Not just for himself, but for Elicia. If she was going to go through with what she wanted, he wanted the military to be safe for her. He wanted the military to be something safe for Amestris, not a symbol of oppression and tyranny as it had been at the Promise Day. He sighed shakily and shook his head.</p><p>“This is a mistake.”</p><p>“The only mistake is that you left your balls somewhere,” Edward whispered as he watched another strip and shuddered. “Find them and find them fast.”</p><p>It took hours and several others leaving either before their clothes could come off, or soon as the examiner tried to cavity-search them.  </p><p>“Major General Roy Mustang, step forward and submit your sovereign.”</p><p>Edward closed his eyes briefly before he walked forward beside Mustang, keeping in step. He moved to stand in front of him and tried not to move. The examiner came forward with clean gloves and waited for the order. Roy watched Edwards back, noting the tension in his shoulders and had to take a breath himself.</p><p>“Remove your clothes including your undergarments.”</p><p>Roy wished he didn’t see the tremble in Edward’s flesh hand as he unhooked his collar and shed each layer. Edward had become broad in his adult years, shoulders squared and thick. When the shirt slipped over his head, the scars of yesteryear were many but faded and defined hardened muscle. He mismatched hands slid to his waist and removed pants in a bid to get it over with quickly, taking underwear as well. Roy would’ve looked away, averted his gaze in some form of respect, but that wasn’t the point. The point was for the examiner to humiliate Edward, while he as a commander watched. And he watched… he watched as the examiner took a look in fascination at Ed’s metal arm and leg. He watched the way his right shoulder blade tensed hard when the examiner checked the healing around the port. Edward kept his head forward and Roy idly wondered what expression he wore as the examiner circled him. Had this been any other circumstance, he could’ve appreciated what time had done for Edward, but right now it took everything in him to not get sick on himself.</p><p>“Breathe,” the examiner ordered as he stepped to humiliate Edward further.</p><p>Roy pretended he didn’t hear the sound of discomfort. This shouldn’t be happening and he was too damn cowardly to just walk out on it all and take Edward from it.</p><p>“Alright, say your full name, rank, and title.”</p><p>“Edward Elric, Lieutenant Colonel, Fullmetal Alchemist.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>“You may dress, Lt. Colonel,” Roy ordered softly.</p><p>Edward was quick to put his clothes back on and when he approached the table with Roy, his eyes were misted and his face was an embarrassed red. Roy said nothing to him, though he hesitated at the table. He eyed Edward who took a few deep breaths, his pupils dilating in an effort to get enough air.</p><p>A panic attack, or the onset of one…</p><p>Edward cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. He picked up the pen and Roy frowned wondering how many times Edward had beat back his own anxiety just to save face, just to not deal with it. He signed the contract and passed the pen to Roy without looking. Roy took it, the tip poised over the paper. He looked at Ed ward discreetly and whispered.</p><p>“This can stop… it only gets worse from here.”</p><p>Edward cut his eyes at him. “I didn’t get a finger up my ass for you to question me. Sign the goddamn paper!”</p><p>Why was he like this?</p><p>Roy signed the paper with a flourish and took the box that was presented. He turned to Edward once he opened it, looking him directly in the eye. The blush hadn’t faded and he looked two steps from passing out from the effort of holding in the panic Roy knew was there.</p><p>“Breathe, Fullmetal,” he ordered sharply.</p><p>It wasn’t the order Edward expected and it showed. He gasped out, having been suppressing the anxiety so hard that he’d cut his own breathing. He breathed in and out a few times and looked up at Roy, looking every bit of on the brink as he should’ve.</p><p>“Kneel.”</p><p>Edward nodded and got to his knees, still panting, but breathing better than the stifled inhales from before. Roy unclasped the collar and Edward tipped his head back for him, baring his neck.</p><p>“With this, I bind you to me from here until your death or mine. You are my sovereign. You represent my Will. You represent my Power. You represent my ability to lead. You belong to me and no other.”</p><p>He closed the collar around Edward’s neck and it sealed there. Edward’s automail arm was trembling but he stood when Roy ordered him to. He looked to Mattea.</p><p>“Permission from the sitting Sovereign to remove my sovereign from the room.”</p><p>“Permission granted. He belongs to you now, do what you must,” Mattea replied with a wave. “Ensure he will return for the banquette.”</p><p>Roy nodded and looked down at Edward. “On your feet sovereign.”</p><p>Edward stumbled to his feet and Roy resisted the urge to help him. Once they were close to the door, Roy slipped his arm around Edward’s waist to support him where they couldn’t be seen and guided him out into the sunlight and air. He brought him out onto the grounds where he wouldn’t be crowded and no one was watching them. Edward leaned against a tree and began gasping loud as the anxiety hit him hard and fast. His knees gave out and Roy caught him immediately as he gave out a sob. Edward clung to his arms as he fought to breathe and tears began to stream down flushed cheeks. Roy pulled him so that his own back was against the tree and Edward’s was against his chest. He held him close, cocooning him with his arms but keeping the hold lose so that Edward could escape should this not be the way. Rather than run, Edward pressed himself back against Roy, his fingers digging in tight to Roya’s forearms as he sobbed and gasped. Roy hissed at the bruising grip of his automail, but he didn’t jerk away. Instead, he moved his hand to Edward’s chin and tipped his head up so that he could get more air.</p><p>“Your name is Edward Elric. Your rank is Lt. Colonel. Your title is the Fullmetal Alchemist. Say it.”</p><p>Edward’s lips moved but they barely formed words.</p><p>Roy kept him pressed close, making sure the other could feel the thud of his own heart against his back.</p><p>“Your name is Edward Elric,” he tried again, speaking slower. “Your rank is Lt. Colonel. Your title is the Fullmetal Alchemist. Say it.”</p><p>“M-my name is E-Edward Elric.”</p><p>“Good. Good. All of it.”</p><p>“M-my name is Edward Elric. My rank is Lt. C-colonel. My t-title is the Fullmetal Alchemist.”</p><p>Roy nodded pressing his chin to Edward’s shoulder, giving him as much contact as he needed. “Again.”</p><p>“My name is Edward Elric. My rank is Lt. Colonel. My title is the Fullmetal Alchemist.”</p><p>“Better, <em>again.</em>”</p><p>He forced Edward to say it again and again. Each recital was clearer than the last and he heard less sobbing in Edward’s voice and more of an exhausted but fully aware tone. Edward grew quiet after a while and he let his head fall back against Roy’s shoulder as he took deep lungful’s of breath. Roy whispered assurances until Edward’s breathing fully evened out and he loosened his hold.</p><p>“Fuck…” Edwards breathed out, tiredly. “…sorry. Hasn’t…hasn’t been this bad in a while.”</p><p>“Liar,” Roy muttered.</p><p>“Fuck you.” Edward’s fingers came to the collar.</p><p>“You shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have let you do it. Letting the examiner do that—”</p><p>“Oh, fuck off, it wasn’t Mr. Prostate Examine that set me off,” Edward grumbled as he focused on breathing.</p><p>“What? Then what was it? You almost fell apart right there on your kn….” Roy closed his eyes and sighed. He knew it. “It wasn’t that you were kneeling, was it?”</p><p>Edward’s fingers brushed at the collar and Roy knew immediately what Edward was looking for.</p><p>“It’s an alchemic seal. Only I can take it off you. If <em>you</em> take it off, they’ll know and we’ll be disqualified.”</p><p>Edward clawed at it in frustration. “Son of a bitch!”</p><p>Roy sighed and lowered his head. Edward’s automail hand trembled something nasty and he latched on to it in an effort to suppress it. Roy had never seen it tremble like that before.</p><p>“So it was the collar…”</p><p>“Of course it was the goddamn collar! ‘The last humiliation,’ remember!”</p><p>Roy ignored the mocking tone, focusing on the problem at hand. “May I ask why?”</p><p>“I’m not your fucking dog, Mustang!”</p><p>It was blurted out. Coldly and harshly. Roy sighed and tilted his head back to rest against the trunk of the tree.</p><p>“I’ve had a collar on you since you were twelve and you were finally rid of it… now you’re back in it, for real this time.”</p><p>Edward didn’t speak, but Roy knew he was right.</p><p>“Why didn’t you just leave Ed?”</p><p>“Because I’m a stubborn piece of shit and when there’s someone I love’s happiness at stake? I do all kinds of dumb shit, like sell my fucking body and soul to you just to make your chicken shit ass Fuhrer.”</p><p>“You really aren’t here for my sake, are you Edward?”</p><p>“I told you. I don’t owe you anything but money. This isn’t about you. I do it for her. That’s how I know I can do it. I’m doing it for her.”</p><p>Roy’s expression softened and he turned Edward to look at him. His eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks were flushed an unhealthy red and face was a mess of sweat and drying tears. How long had Edward been coping with this stuff on his own? How long had he been fighting panic with no one around to tell him it was okay? To keep him grounded. And yet, Edward still found the resolve to go headfirst into this foolishness with him, in spite of all this. In spite of this being the worst thing he could be doing right now, he was fighting to do this for Elicia.</p><p>“Do it for her…” Roy muttered. “Okay. <em>We’ll</em> do it for her.”</p><p>Edward blinked wearily at him but nodded. “Kinda hard not to now. T-thanks by the way. Guess you handle a lot of panics.”</p><p>“Only my own,” Roy said easily. “Besides, don’t thank me. I have to start training you.”</p><p>“I said I wasn’t your fucking dog—”</p><p>“For the trial, Ed. You don’t know how to listen to me, you don’t know how I operate as a commander in battle, and you sure as hell don’t know how to present yourself as a soldier, much less a sovereign. If we’re going to do this and do this right, you have to <em>listen</em> to me. From this point on you can’t go back. That collar is there and it doesn’t come off until I say it does and unfortunately, I can’t take it off unless I explicitly trust you to put it back on and… I don’t.”</p><p>Edward groaned and ran his hands through his hair. “Fine. Fine, fucking fine! Just… can we just go somewhere first? I need to fucking get out of here or I’m gonna vomit on your shoes.”</p><p>“We’ll go to my house.”</p><p>“Your house? Why?”</p><p>“Because you’re going to have to live with me during the trials.”</p><p>“….excuse me?”</p><p>“We’ve signed the contract. We have to cohabitate. It’s meant to foster trust and allow us to strategize together – what?”</p><p>Edward stared him with a blank expression.</p><p>“What, Fullmetal?”</p><p>“…you’re a fuckin’ snorer, aren’t you.”</p><p>Roy wanted to strangle this bastard child all over again.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for all the kudos and the wonderful comments. I'm glad to have you guys continue. Next, we have Roy and Ed trying to prepare for the medical exam and for the banquet in which you meet the other candidates and sovereigns properly. I hope you guys are enjoying it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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